


Do You Believe In Something Beautiful?

by Mordukai



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Alcohol, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Animal Death, Anorexia, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Blow Jobs, Eating Disorders, Enforced Treatment, Found Family, Guns, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Literal Sleeping Together, M/M, Medical Procedures, Outdoor Sex, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Post-Borderlands 3 (Video Game), References to canon deaths, Relapsing, Rough Sex, Sharing a Bed, Smut, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:13:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27796729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mordukai/pseuds/Mordukai
Summary: Mordecai should be happy. He has Brick, and Tina, and Talon. He's stopped drinking and no one is currently out to destroy the planet. But Mordecai is still fighting his demons, and it's only a matter of time before it all gets out of control.
Relationships: Brick/Mordecai (Borderlands)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 23





	1. Your Sickness Feels Like Home

## 

Your Sickness Feels Like Home

_And even the nights, they could get better,  
And even the days ain’t all that bad,  
And after a week of fighting,  
As more and more it seems the right thing,  
Do you believe in something beautiful?_

### Boomtown, Devil’s Razor, Pandora

Mordecai is sitting by Bloodwing’s statue, head resting against the cold metal, gazing out over the desert. Talon is nestled at his side, and he rests one hand on the bird’s feathered back. The sun is setting, a golden glow visible along the skyline. He can hear Brick and Tina eating together down in the camp. Brick cooked, with Tina assisting, both dressed in matching pink aprons. Brick’s was so small on him that both Mordecai and Tina had fallen about laughing when they had seen him. Tina had got one for Mordecai to wear as well, but he had refused point blank, backing away from her with a horrified expression on his face as Brick roared with laughter and egged her on. It had been fun. But then Brick was cooking, the smell of roasting meat filling the air, and Mordecai had felt his stomach turn. He had retreated, ducking away when the others were distracted. And he’s sitting alone, and he can hear their voices from down below.

“Where’s Mordi gone?”

“Mordi! Mordiiiii! Mordecai! Birdman, where you at?”

He tries to ignore Tina’s shouts, tries to block it all out, gaze fixed resolutely ahead of himself. He can’t do this. Not tonight. For a while there’s silence, and Mordecai thinks, hopes, that the two of them have given up. This isn’t the first time he’s disappeared at mealtimes. The though of people watching him as he eats, noticing all of his little quirks, even worse, commenting on them, well, it terrifies him. He used to be able to eat after drinking, because everything is less scary when you’re drunk, but now he’s off the booze he doesn’t even have that. Now he has to face his fears at every mealtime, and it’s just too much. The stupid thing is that he doesn’t even know why food scares him so much. It’s just always been the one thing he could control, as everything else spirals into chaos. 

He feels a hand on his shoulder and glances up to see Brick.

“Found you.”

Mordecai rolls his eyes. “S’not like I was hiding.” Which isn’t completely a lie; if he had truly wanted to hide, he would have gone further away.

Brick sets a plate down on the ground beside him. “Tina made me save you some.”

“Tell her I said thanks.”

“You gonna join us for more of the game later?” Brick asks. “I am ready to punch some shit!”

Tina has been running a Bunkers and Badasses game just for the three of them. It’s more fun that Mordecai had expected a kid’s game to be, and he has to admit that he’s pretty invested in the story. 

He nods. “Yeah, I’ll be there.”

“Good.”

Brick leaves him. The plate of food sits beside him, slowly cooling. He stares at it. Even knowing that Brick made it doesn’t make it look appetising. He hasn’t eaten since a piece of dry toast that morning, and even that he hadn’t wanted. It’s been worse than normal recently, and clearly the others are starting to notice. He picks up a piece of meat. It’s greasy, and the feel of it in his fingers is off putting. Talon squawks, and Mordecai feeds him the piece of food.

“There you go, buddy. You gotta grow up big and strong.”

The bird pecks at his fingers, searching for more.

He doesn’t feed Talon the whole plate. He wants to be able to look Brick in the eye later, so he eats three mouthfuls, chewing each one thirty times before swallowing, until the food is a dry, mushed up pulp in his mouth. When the plate is empty, he heads back down to where he can hear Brick and Tina arguing over the game set up. He smiles sadly to himself. Things would be so good if he could just stop being such a fuck up.

### Sanctuary III, In Orbit Above Pandora

“Can’t believe you’re making me come with you to this friggin’ birthday party, man,” Mordecai moans, once both he and Brick have digistructed onboard. “This is gonna be so lame.”

“The invitation was pretty,” says Brick. “It had pink glitter.”

“Yeah, that was a bitch to clean up. Who even sends glitter bombs anymore? Shit sucks.”

It’s not the party itself that Mordecai objects to. Not really. It’s definitely lame, but he has nothing against any of the people attending. And it’s nice to be back in Sanctuary, even if Sanctuary is now a spaceship rather than a city. But Claptrap’s parties always feature large quantities of pizza and the thought of food is freaking him out. Everyone things he’s doing so well because he’s not drinking, but they can’t see the cuts below the strips of fabric wrapped around his arm. They don’t see the internal struggle every time he sits down to eat. Only Brick and Tina know there’s something wrong, and even they don’t know the half of it. But he’s here now, and Brick is looking at him like he just kicked a puppy, so he sucks it up and deals with it.

“Come on, let’s get this over with.”

It’s a large gathering. Claptrap of course, looking smug that so many people have turned up, even though they are probably there more for the open bar than for him. He spots Tannis making a hasty retreat back to her lab. Ellie, Marcus, and Ava, and all of the other residents of Sanctuary. Zer0 is in attendance, with Rhys Strongfork, his corporate asshole boyfriend, as his plus one. Axton and Sal have made an appearance, as well as Moze, with Iron Bear in tow. Gaige as well. He also spots FL4K, Amara and Zane. So many vault hunters. No Krieg, which is a shame, because he would probably have made the party a hell of a lot more entertaining. Even Athena is in attendance, clearly dragged here by Janey Springs. Janey looks like she’s having fun. Athena, not so much. She looks how Mordecai feels. Tina had been invited, but it had clashed with a date, and she chose that instead. Mordecai can’t blame her, but unfortunately his boyfriend was dead set on attending, even though Mordecai had offered a night of sex instead, which usually sways him. And Moxxi’s behind the bar serving drinks. Mordecai still feels a little awkward around her, but that’s not the reason he doesn’t go over to say hello. He’s not sure he’ll be able to resist having a drink if he does. There are other faces that he recognises. It’s impressive that Claptrap has managed to throw such a large bash. He remembers years ago, back when Sanctuary was firmly on the ground, the annoying little robot had had thrown a party with a lot less success. Mordecai hadn’t attended, and he didn’t think anyone else had either. But this one is at Moxxi’s bar, with drinks and lights and music, and people are enjoying themselves. There are some conspicuously missing faces, though. Roland and Lilith, Maya, Scooter. They all should be here, Roland and Lilith especially. Mordecai still can’t understand why he’s still standing when they’re not. 

Mordecai hands around at the edge of the party. He smiles at people, although his smiles come out more like grimaces, and he makes conversation when he has to. It’s easier with some people than with others. Ellie, for example. Get her started on something and then all he has to do is smile and nod. She’s working on something new in her garage, and her eyes light up as she talks about it.

“Oh man, it’s gonna be baddass!” she says, and then starts talking about rocket powered something or others. Mordecai loses track, smiles and nods. In another situation he would be genuinely interested. Bigger and faster vehicles are always fun, and Ellie’s inventions can be guaranteed to kick up some dirt. But his mind keeps drifting to the pizza boxes lined up on the tables. So far, no one has offered him anything to eat, but he knows it’s only a matter of time.

As if reading his mind, Ellie says “Man, I’m starving, I’m gonna grab me a slice of that ‘za before it’s all gone. Lemme grab one for you two. I’ll be right back.”

“I don’t want-” But she’s already gone, pushing past people to get to the nearest pizza box.

At least Brick is having fun, he thinks, as he glances over at his boyfriend who is currently slamming shots down in a drinking contest against Rhys. Brick looks absolutely unfazed, whilst Rhys looks like he’s about to vomit or pass out, or maybe both. His face is pale and he’s sweating profusely as he knocks another drink back, shuddering as it slides down his throat. Whatever inspired him to take on a man of Brick’s size, Mordecai has no idea, but it’s amusing to watch.

But now Ellie’s back, and she’s thrusting a slice of greasy, cheesy pizza in Mordecai’s face.

“It’s still hot,” she says, through a mouthful of food.

Mordecai takes it from her automatically. He feels nauseous. The grease is sitting in little shiny pools on top of the cheese.

“It’s good,” says Ellie. “Go on, get some meat on those bones.” She gestures at Mordecai’s body. “You look like you’re ‘boutta disappear on us, Mordecai. You need to put on some curves.”

“Uh, I ate earlier,” says Mordecai, trying to hand the slice back to her. The grease is getting on his fingers and he can’t stand it. But Ellie has spotted someone else to talk to and she’s already moving on, walking away from him, leaving him standing there with the pizza dangling limply from one hand. Mordecai doesn’t know what to do with it, so he holds on to it, trying to ignore the texture in his fingers, the scent of it in his nose.

“Mordi!” shouts Brick. He tackles Mordecai in a hug from behind and Mordecai almost drops the now cold pizza. “This party is fucking badass! That Rhys guy passed out, look.”

Mordecai makes a noncommittal murmur. He doesn’t need to look at Rhys to know what he’ll see; a pathetic loser in a position that Mordecai is far too familiar, but he looks anyway. Rhys is slumped over the bar. Zer0 is standing behind him. They poke him a couple of times on the shoulder, and then shrug walk away. They have such a bizarre relationship, thinks Mordecai.

He can smell the booze on Brick, and it’s giving him cravings. He turns to speak to him, reaching on tiptoes so that he can speak directly into Brick’s ear and therefore keep his voice low enough that no one else will hear him.

“Look, man,” he says. “I’m tired. Gonna head home and crash.” He extricates himself from Brick’s arms, casually dropping the slice of pizza to the floor as he does so. “You have fun, buddy.”

“Aw man.” Brick looks genuinely disappoint.

Mordecai fakes a yawn. “What can I say, my bed is calling me, man,” he says, and Brick nods. 

“Alright,” he says, and drops a kiss on Mordecai’s cheek.

Mordecai tries to ignore the guilty feeling inside of him. Brick is a grown man, and anyway, Mordecai gave the party his best shot. It’s not like he’s doing anything wrong by going home early. He glances down at the slice of pizza on the floor. One more bullet dodged.

### Somewhere In The Dust, Pandora

They’ve been out fighting bandits all day. The fuckers raided Boomtown, so Tina tracked them down and came up with a plan for revenge. Sometimes, that girl scares Mordecai a little. He’s glad that she’s his family and not his enemy. Needless to say, the plan involved vast quantities of explosives to break through into the bandit stronghold. Tina had been in her element. And once the walls were down, Brick charged in, doing what he does best; punching. Mordecai provided sniping backup from a nearby outcrop. It had been exhilarating. Now they’re standing in the middle of the bandit camp, surrounded by dead bodies. Brick is covered in blood and guts, whilst Tina smells slightly of gunpowder. The sun is hot, the loot is shiny, and all is right with the world.

“Brick, you need a shower,” says Tina. “That stink! Peeyooo!”

“It’s not me, it’s the bandit guts.”

“Wait wait wait. Brick, get your ass moving and stand just… right… here… Now shoot that pipe, Birdman!”

Mordecai raises his revolver and fires a shot at the pipe that’s running above Brick’s head. As he does so, he hopes that it’s water, and not, like, slag, or some shit. Tina can be unreliable like that. But this time things work out well, and the pipe bursts, clean water pouring out and down over Brick, who shakes himself like a wet dog.

“Water party!” shrieks Tina, pulling Mordecai under the water.

“Fuck, Tina, stop!” But it’s too late, and now all three of them are soaked.

It’s fun, though. His worries are forgotten as the three of them play like children under the water. 

Brick wraps his arms around Mordecai and nuzzles his head into Mordecai’s shoulder.

“Okie, I am going to leave you two love birds to your fun,” says Tina. “You boys enjoy yourselves, I’mma head on out of here.”

“Tina!” says Mordecai, but Tina is already skipping away. There’s the sound of the technical starting up and then the squeal of tires as Tina drives away. “Uh, Brick?” says Mordecai. “We only brought one car.”

“Aw, fuck,” says Brick.

So they’re walking to find the nearest Catch-A-Ride in order to digistruct a new vehicle. The hot sun has dried their clothes quickly, so it’s not too bad. Unfortunately, one bit of desert looks a lot like another bit of desert, and after a while Mordecai realises that they’ve been walking in circles.

“I’m telling you man, I’ve seen that bit of cliff three times.”

“Looks different to me.”

“It’s not different, trust me. And look, there’s that dead skag.”

“Lotta dead skags out here.”

“Yeah but not many of them have a dick spray painted across their back.”

“Maybe they’re related.”

“That’s… I don’t think that’s how that works.” They sit down in a shady patch beneath the cliff. “Talon, go get Tina.” Talon sets off flying. 

“You think she’ll come?”

“She fucking better.”

They sit side by side. After a moment, Brick lays a hand on Mordecai’s knee. Mordecai grasps his hand.

“It’ll take her a while to get here,” he says.

It’s all the prompting that Brick needs. The larger man pulls him onto his lap, so that now Mordecai is straddling him. Mordecai leans in and presses his lips against Brick’s. A gentle, tender kiss, until Brick opens his mouth, wraps his arms around Mordecai and pulls him closer, and kisses him back hard.

Mordecai allows his hands to roam across Brick’s body. His shaved head, his broad shoulders, his waist. He dips his hands underneath Brick’s tank top, touching the hot skin. There’s a trail of hair running down from Brick’s belly button, and he traces it with his fingers, lower and lower, until he has to dip his fingers beneath Brick’s waistband. Brick is already hard for him, and he clasps Brick’s cock, eliciting a sharp grunt from Brick. They’re still kissing, but Mordecai has other plans, so he pulls away. Forcefully, because Brick is holding him in place.

“Mordi…” But the look in his eye stops Brick from complaining. He waits in anticipation and Mordecai slides off Brick’s lap so that he’s lying on his stomach on the ground, his head resting just over Brick’s cock. He fiddles with Brick’s trousers, freeing him. His cock is fully erect, and for a moment Mordecai just looks at it. He can practically feel Brick’s anticipation. His tongue darts out, a quick lick of the head, just enough to make Brick squirm. He leans forward, licks his lips, and then slides his mouth onto Brick’s cock. Brick groans, and Mordecai smirks before swirling his tongue along the hardness in his mouth. He feels Brick’s hands grab his hair, forcing his head down further onto Brick’s cock. He happily obliges, sucking at Brick until Brick’s body tenses and he comes directly down Mordecai’s throat with a groan. Mordecai swallows, slides his mouth back up Brick’s cock until only the head is left in his mouth. He waits for a moment, hot mouth still clasped onto Brick, until Brick pulls him off and up to kiss him. He tucks Brick back into his trousers, straddling him again. Brick runs his hands across Mordecai’s back as they kiss. Mordecai is hard now. Listening to Brick come, knowing that it was him who caused it, is the hottest thing he knows. He grinds into Brick, and Brick slides his hands up underneath Mordecai’s clothing, resting them on the skin of his back. 

“I can feel more bones than normal,” says Brick. “You’re thinner.”

Suddenly Mordecai doesn’t feel as turned on as before. He stills against Brick.

“I have the same amount of bones, Brick.”

“That’s not what I mean.” Brick runs his hands down Mordecai’s spine, making him shiver. “I can’t hold you if you disappear.”

“I’m not gonna disappear. I’m fine.” But he does feel a little like he’s fading away. He wonders how long he’ll be able to keep going like this. He wonders if he’ll ever want to stop.

He doesn’t need to think about it anymore, though, because he hears the sound of the technical approaching, and jumps up from Brick’s lap, adjusting his trousers. His cock is softer now, though, so it doesn’t really matter. Nothing more of a turn off than being reminded that you’re sick.

Sick. Because he is sick. This isn’t normal. This isn’t how he’s supposed to be living. But he doesn’t know how to fix it, because it feels comforting, like home.

Tina arrives in the technical, Talon flying overhead. She eyes them suspiciously.

“Nope, not even gonna ask,” she says, smirking at them.

“Just take us home,” says Mordecai.


	2. I Watch You Turn To Dust

## I Watch You Turn To Dust

### Boomtown, Devil’s Razor, Pandora

He’s dreaming. He knows that he’s dreaming because for once, he actually feels happy. He hasn’t felt this light inside for years. Decades, even. That’s a long time to carry so much pain. But here, wherever here is, that burden has been lifted. He looks around. He’s sitting on an outcrop, high up above a desert. It looks a little bit like Pandora, except that it’s not quite the right colours. More red than pale yellow. It feels like daytime, sunlight dancing across the sand, until he looks up at the sky, which is pitch black and scattered with stars. He reaches out a hand, because they look so close that he thinks he could just about grab one, and suddenly he’s no longer sitting, but bounding down the cliff to the desert below. He’s bouncing, like he’s weightless, and for a second he wonders if he’s on Elpis, remembers that the moon has no breathable atmosphere, and panics. He’s clawing at his throat, struggling to take a breath, and his vision is fading, until he remembers that this is a dream and it doesn’t matter if there’s no air. His throat loosens, and he can breathe again, the anxiety receding. 

He’s never been to Elpis, only heard stories about it. He’s not even sure if this is Elpis, since he doesn’t know wat the planet looks like up close. He does know that there are jump pads, up there, though. He’s always wanted to ride one. And then there one is, glowing blue, right in front of him, and he laughs and takes a leap onto it. He soars into the air, stars whizzing past him so fast that they turn from pinpricks of light into sweeping white lines across his vision.

And then he falls. He lands with a thud on the floor, no longer weightless. The room is dark, and he knows that he’s no longer dreaming because all of the heavy feelings are back. Plus, his joints are hurting, a creeping pain that has been steadily worsening since he turned forty-five. It’s still bearable enough that he can usually ignore it, but it’s a constant reminder of time ticking on. 

“Fuck.”

He’s fallen out of the bed because Brick has rolled over and pushed him out. And now the dream is over and who knows when he’ll get to feel that way again. He climbs back onto the bed. Brick is lying on his front, face buried in the pillow, body squarely on Mordecai’s side of the bed, arms and legs starfished across the mattress. Mordecai could lie down on Brick’s side, although with the position of Brick’s arms and legs it would still be a squeeze. But he doesn’t want to. This is his side and he always sleeps here. There’s no other option than just lying on top of Brick, so that’s what he does. He rests his head between Brick’s shoulders, loops one arm around Brick’s body in a half hug, and pulls the blanket up over the both of them. He can smell Brick, a mix of sweat and skin and just Brick, and it’s comforting.

He closes his eyes and tries to bring the dream back, but the strange moon has gone forever. Instead, he tumbles into a terrifying maze, Handsome Jack’s face appearing round each corner. He sees Lilith, whose face then morphs into Roland’s. The blood spreads across his chest and then he’s morphing into Bloodwing, and Mordecai knows what’s coming next and he desperately wants to look away, but he can’t. Bloodwing’s head explodes, her blood splattering, and he wakes, sweating and screaming, clutching tightly to Brick.

Brick mumbles something inaudible and rolls over, bringing Mordecai with him, wrapping his arms tightly around him. Mordecai breathes into the comfort. It’s ok. Brick is here, and he’s safe. Jack is dead. Bloodwing and Roland and probably Lilith too, but Brick is alive, and Talon, and Tina. It’s ok. 

When the morning light comes creeping into the room, Brick and Mordecai are curled around each other. Brick is still sleeping, and every so often he lets out a loud snore. Mordecai is lying there awake. He’s been awake since the nightmare, eyes open in the dark, just waiting for Brick to wake up. Even with Brick’s body beside him radiating heat, he’s freezing cold. There’s a clenching feeling in his stomach, like a vice, and he knows that he desperately needs to eat something. It’s been two days since his last meal now. Too long, and yet somehow still not long enough.

He gives up on waiting for Brick to wake up and gets out of bed. He heads through to the small kitchen and stands in the middle of the room. His feet are bare and he’s wearing a pair of boxers and one of Brick’s tank tops, massively oversized on him. He’s thrown a cardigan on over the top, partly for the warmth but mainly because he doesn’t like his left arm being bare, ever. The stone floor is like ice on his feet and his teeth are chattering. 

He heads to the fridge. They’re out of almost everything, because none of them are that great at staying on top of groceries, and Pandora isn’t the easiest place to have a steady supply of food. There are two eggs, half a bottle of milk, and a plate of leftovers that Mordecai recognises with a guilty jolt as last night’s dinner that he left on the side, untouched. Either Brick or Tina has wrapped it carefully, as if there was a chance of him coming back to eat it later. He closes the fridge, turns to the store cupboard instead. 

This is better stocked. There’s a shelf of those energy drinks that Brick loves. Mordecai has suggested that he keeps them in the fridge, but Brick complains that the cold makes the bubbles too bubbly and then they hurt his tongue. Instead, he drinks them room temperature, or worse, sun warmed. Mordecai tried a taste of one once, and it was the vilest thing he has ever tasted; sickly sweet with an awful aftertaste. But Brick loves sweet things. He had been so mad when Mordecai had spat his mouthful all over the floor. Mordecai doesn’t complain about the drinks, but he does refuse to kiss Brick if he’s just finished a can. The cupboard also contains some tins and packages. Instant noodles, tins of beans and meats, long life stuff. Nothing looks appetising. 

Mordecai closes the door and heads back to the fridge, stares at the contents for a few moments, then returns to the cupboard. Backwards and forwards, backwards and forwards between the two. Sometimes he reaches out and picks something up, only to put it down again to return to his pacing across the kitchen.

There’s a bottle of whiskey hidden at the back of the cupboard. He knows it’s there because he put it there. He gets it down. The liquid is a beautiful golden brown and his tongue darts out to lick his lips. His mouth is dry. He reaches for a glass and pours himself a shot. It sits there on the counter, calling to him. He’s alone. No one will know if he only has one. He lifts the glass to his lips. His sense of smell always gets stronger the longer he goes without food, so the scent of the whiskey is overpowering. He drinks it. It burns as it slides down his throat and hits his stomach at the same time as the sinking feeling of guilt and regret. There’s no point not to have another one now.

“Hey girl, wow, you’re up bright and early.”

He jumps, and the bottle slides out of his grip and smashes on the floor, whiskey pooling around his feet.

“Fuck,” he mutters.

Tina looks at his suspiciously. “What were you doing with that?” She looks like she’s going to say more, but Mordecai cuts her off.

“None of your fucking business.” He strides out of the room, leaving Tina behind with the wreckage. The shattered glass cuts his feet, but he barely notices.

-

“Why are you hiding up here?” It’s Brick, intruding on Mordecai’s solitude. He doesn’t want to see him, doesn’t want to talk to him. “Tina said you ran away from her.”

What else did she say? Mordecai wants to ask. Did she mention the whiskey? Is it still there on the floor or has one of them cleaned it up? He knows he should apologise for causing a scene, but to be quite honest, he doesn’t fucking feel like it. He’s tired of pretending everything is ok when it isn’t.

“What did you do to your feet?” Suddenly Brick is fussing over him, lifting his feet, looking at where the glass has cut into him. There are still some pieces embedded into his heel. “Stay there,” Brick orders.

He leaves and returns quickly with a first aid kit. Then he sets about carefully picking the glass out of Mordecai’s feet and cleaning the cuts. His large hands are gentle, and every time that Mordecai winces from the pain, he winces in sympathy. Mordecai looks down at the top of his head. He’s focussing intently on his task.

I don’t deserve to see this side of him, Mordecai thinks. He deserves someone less broken. Someone he isn’t always having to patch up or reassure.

“There,” says Brick, once he’s finished. “Better?”

“Better,” says Mordecai. And it’s not even a lie. There’s something about Brick’s tenderness that heals him a little. Not a lot, but enough.

“Tina’s making pancakes, and I’m hungry.”

Mordecai breaks eye contact. Don’t offer me any, he thinks, repeating the words over in his head, almost like a prayer. Then he remembers the practically empty fridge. “Wait, with what?”

Brick shrugs. “Wanna come see if she’s blown up the kitchen yet?”

He almost says no. But Brick is smiling at him, and his heart melts a little.

“Yeah, alright.” It’s a lifeline, and he grasps it with both hands. Brick’s not mad at him. Tina’s not mad at him. Maybe he’ll be able to eat something small, if they’re both with him, distracting him with their antics. Or maybe he’ll be able to eat something alone, afterwards, once they’ve cheered him up enough to cope with the fear.

### Ambermire, Eden-6

“This is not my idea of a good time, Brick,” says Mordecai. The two of them landed on Eden-6 a day ago for a dinner party at the Hammerlock-Jakobs household. Taking the trip between planets was a lot of effort for one evening, so they had been invited to extend their stay for a week, for a holiday. Now they’re hiking through the boggy jungle of the wettest planet in the galaxy, and Mordecai is having even less fun than he had had at the actual dinner party, which is saying something.

“Remember when we came here to rescue Hammerlock?” says Brick. His strides are long and Mordecai is struggling to keep up.

“Yeah, I remember,” he says. “That was a mess.”

“It was the B Team! It was badass!”

Mordecai rolls his eyes. Hiking, for fucks sake. Not even fighting anything, just hiking. “Aren’t you bored, man?”

“A little,” Brick admits. “I thought there would be more things to punch.”

They’d encountered a few jabbers earlier on in the hike, but everything else seemed to have been scared away by Brick’s noisy footsteps. Either that or they were just super unlucky. 

The problem of just hiking, thinks Mordecai, is that you’re left alone with your thoughts. Brick isn’t particularly chatty, and he’s seemed relatively content just walking. Mordecai can’t stop replaying the dinner party. Every piece of food that he had to eat, every time someone looked at him, every little throwaway comment that was made. He had pushed the food around as much as he could, to make it look like he had eaten more than he actually had, and he had felt deeply uncomfortable the entire time.

“I’m bored too,” he says. “Look.” Ahead of them is a lean to, almost overgrown with jungle plants.

“I wonder if anyone’s home,” says Brick. He bounds over, knocks loudly on the door. The force of his knocking causes the door to fall off its hinges with a crash. “Uh, my bad.” He lifts it up and sets it back in its frame. “It’s empty.”

The lean to looks long abandoned. There is no sign that anyone has even touched it in years. It’s empty except for a mouldy looking sofa and some empty bottles. Mordecai sits down on the sofa. It creaks and groans beneath him but it’s stable.

“I want a rest,” he says.

Brick pouts. “But we might find something interesting soon.”

“We haven’t seen anything interesting in hours, Brick. I really don’t think that’s gonna change any time soon.”

“But I wanted to punch things.”

“Come here.” Mordecai beckons Brick over. The massive man has to duck his head to enter the shack. “I have a better idea than punching.”

“Better than punching? That’s not possible.”

Mordecai raises an eyebrow. “What’s your other favourite activity?” he says, and watches the light turn on behind Brick’s eyes. Brick makes no more complaints, just sits down on the sofa beside Mordecai and scoops him up onto his lap.

Their mouths collide. Brick’s hands are on the back of Mordecai’s head, and Mordecai thrusts his tongue into Brick’s mouth. It’s like if he kisses him hard enough, he’ll be able to force the anxieties out of his head. Brick responds enthusiastically.

He feels a little bad, like maybe he’s using Brick. Because he isn’t thinking about giving Brick pleasure, just about distracting himself from his own thoughts. He pushes that thought away, though, because Brick doesn’t seem to mind that Mordecai is more forceful than usual. In fact, he seems to be enjoying it.

He grinds his hardness against Brick, and Brick makes a little grunting sound in the back of his throat. Mordecai pulls his mouth off Brick’s, eyes bright.

“Fuck me,” he says. “Please. I need you to fuck me.”

Brick practically pushes him off him in his hurry to get his trousers off. Mordecai is pulling his own clothes off as well, and they drop them in a pile on the floor. 

“Lube?” Brick asks. Mordecai points to his bag and then leans up against the wall of the lean to, face and hands pressed against it, legs spread wide. He hears Brick’s sharp intake of breath as he sees him in that position.

Brick stretches him open gently with large fingers.

“Hurry up,” says Mordecai. “I’m ready.” He isn’t, not completely, but he doesn’t want to wait any longer. He wants Brick inside him right that second. He wants to feel filled, to feel complete. He wants to feel the pain.

Brick pushes inside him. It hurts as he stretches, but he breathes into it. He needs it. Deserves it. It doesn’t hurt enough. He pushes back against Brick, forcing Brick’s cock all the way inside him. He lets out a sharp, involuntary gasp as Brick bottoms out. Brick’s hands close over his wrists, holding his arms in place against the wall above his head.

“Fuck me,” says Mordecai. “Please.”

So Brick does, long, hard thrusts that burn and sting and ache even as they send shudders of pleasure through Mordecai’s whole body. His cock hangs, hard and heavy, and he would reach for it, except that he likes the feeling of Brick’s hands on his wrists, doesn’t want to move from his grip. He cries out Brick’s name over and over, a mantra that pushes every other thought from his mind. There’s only Brick, and him, and the way their bodies join together, like they were built for each other.

Finally, Brick comes, his breath hot in Mordecai’s ear as his body shudders against him. He slides his cock out, leaving Mordecai feeling empty, so empty. Mordecai is still hard, and Brick lets go of one of his wrists to grasp his cock. The sensation makes him let out a small whimper. Brick runs his hand over Mordecai’s cock, fingers stroking the head, the shaft, slow tugs that build a feeling of tension in Mordecai’s gut. But he doesn’t want to come while he feels so empty.

“Put your fingers inside me,” he says. It’s not something he’s ever asked for after Brick has fucked him. It’s part of the preparation, not the act itself. Brick makes a strangled sound and lets go of Mordecai’s other wrist. A moment later, Mordecai feels Brick’s fingers pushing at his entrance. Now that he’s filled again, whole again, he loses himself to the sensations, and it isn’t long before Brick brings him over the edge, spilling over Brick’s hand.

He dresses in silence. He doesn’t want to talk. Doesn’t want to break the spell. He knows that as soon as one of them says something, everything bad that he’s just chased away will come rushing back. But silence never lasts forever.

“Wanna go punch some things now?” Brick asks.

“You can do the punching.” He tries to keep his voice light. It doesn’t seem like Brick has noticed his mood, or if he has, he’s choosing not to comment on it. He just needs to pretend his way through the rest of the week. If he has to do that through sex in stolen moments, then so be it. It’s only a week.

### The Slaughter Shaft, Pandora

Sometimes, when he hasn’t eaten very much for a few days, Mordecai gets a weird sort of high. It’s happening less and less these days, the fatigue and sadness is much more common, but there are still days when it happens. It’s like his body is made of air. He feels physically lighter, like a strong breeze could lift him from the ground, and everything is brighter, more intense. It’s like he’s transcended from his mortal body, like this is the way that people are meant to be. He feels fast, like he’s processing everything at breakneck speed. Everyone else is moving too slowly, it’s so frustrating. Even Tina seems subdued when he’s in this state.

Today is one of those days, and Mordecai feels weird. The sadness has morphed into a buzzing anxiety that’s pushing him to move move move and he’s convinced Brick to join him for a competition in the Slaughter Shaft. Not that Brick needed that much convincing. Fighting tournaments like this are a staple of Pandoran entertainment and fighting hordes of challengers is one of Brick’s favourite activities. A pair of vault hunters teamed up together will bring the crowds, which usually isn’t Mordecai’s style, but he’s feeling antsy and needs the excitement, the danger. A low always follows a high and he wants to make the most of this while it lasts.

They’re standing in the middle of the arena, back to back. The roar of a cheering crowd drowns out everything, and Mordecai is being blinded by all of the flashing lights. Brick flexes his muscles, putting on a show, and the roar gets louder. Then he smacks the start button and the chaos begins.

Mordecai scrambles up a scaffold to reach higher ground. He’s already lifting the sniper rifle from his back, ready. Talon is circling above his head, claws ready to join the fray. He reaches a good vantage point just as the first wave of challengers charge in. It’s only the first of five rounds, so it’s all bandits with more bravado than skill. No one in this wave has ever fought in a competition before, and most won’t ever again. Mordecai feels nothing about putting a bullet in their skulls. They would do the same to him in a heartbeat.

As Brick charges headfirst, fists swinging, he lines up his shot. He waits for Brick to grab two of the bandits, smashing their heads together, before firing over the top of him to the next bandit. The bullet hits the man dead in the forehead, piercing his skull, and the man is dead before he hits the ground. 

Reload. Line it up. Fire. This one looks young, barely out of his teens, so Mordecai fires the bullet into his leg, exploding his kneecap, putting him out of commission but still alive, giving him a chance. Of course, as soon as he heals up he’ll probably sign up for the next competition, against someone with less of a heart than Mordecai, but that’s not Mordecai’s problem. 

Reload. Aim. Fire. Another headshot. Talon lets out a shriek and does a nosedive onto a bandit sneaking up behind Brick. He blinds him with a well-placed swipe with his claws and there’s a spray of blood as the bird flies up and away towards his next target.

Reload. Aim. Fire. There’s a rhythm to it. He finds that it quietens the constant negative voice in his mind. It’s better than meditating.

Reload. Aim. Fire. There’s nothing except the enemy and the gun. Mordecai doesn’t exist anymore. He’s one with the sniper rifle.

The second wave are supposed to be tougher, but they’re still no match against experienced vault hunters. Brick carves a way through with ease, Mordecai picking off the stragglers.

Reload. Aim. Fire. He’s still in the high, with a clear head. None of his problems matter. It’s exhilarating.

Reload. Aim. Fire. The ground below is getting slick with blood and viscera. The bandits who are injured but not dead lie along the edges of the stadium, groaning and doing their best not to bleed out.

Reload. Aim. Fire.

The third wave of challengers are let in through the upper doors. Mordecai hears them behind him and lays his rifle on the ground, drawing his knife. It’s long, sharp, and cuts through the air with ease. He spins round, slashing one across the neck. A gash opens in the man’s neck, blood squirting from an artery. It hits Mordecai’s chest with force as the man collapses, clutching at his throat. 

“This is gonna be a bitch to wash out,” Mordecai mutters, eyes searching for the next enemy.

He slices the next bandit across the chest, spins, stabs another in the throat. It’s like a dance. He feels a sharp pain as a bullet grazes his cheek, draws his revolver with his free hand, fires a shot in the direction it came from. He doesn’t look to see if it finds its mark, simply trusting that it has as he rounds on the next bandit. His knife slides against the bandit’s armour, and she grins at him nastily, grabbing his hand and twisting it round, her gun now up against his head. He cracks her across the head with his revolver, knocking her out. Hands grab his neck from behind, throttling him. He tries to pull away but restricting his food has left his body weaker than he would have liked and he can’t pull free from the grasping hands. He used to be stronger than this, he thinks, as his vision begins to blur. It’s possible that it’s age, but he’s only in his forties, and he’s kidding himself if he tries to pretend that it’s anything other than starvation.

“Talon!” he manages to shout, and the bird slashes his claws across the bandit’s face. He feels the grip weaken and takes his chance, twisting round and driving his knee up into the bandit’s crotch, hard. The man winces and crumples to the ground. Mordecai stabs his knife down into his eye socket. Problem solved. 

By the fourth wave, the challengers are more skilled, and Mordecai’s strength is failing him. He finds himself backed into a corner, knife in his right hand, revolver in his left, sniper rifle lying on the ground a few feet away. He hopes that none of the bandits steal it, because it’s his favourite gun. He’s had it for years, and it means a lot to him. 

The bandits advance on him. He swipes at one with the knife, but the bandit jumps back, laughing. He fires, and he takes one down with a shot to the neck, but then he has to reload, and his fingers aren’t doing what they need to do. He feels a blow to his stomach. He hopes that it’s a punch and not a bullet. Then there’s a blow to his head. He gets the bullets into the chamber and fires, but he has double vision from the head blow and the shot goes wide. He feels the knife enter his stomach, but he doesn’t see it. His vision is already fading as his knees give out beneath him. 

This is it, then. And as his consciousness fades, blows raining down on him, he just has time to think ‘thank fuck I went down fighting’.


	3. I’d Be Under The Sea, But You Hold Me Above

## I’d Be Under The Sea, But You Hold Me Above

### The Slaughter Shaft, Pandora

Brick is having the time of his life. He’s in his fucking element. His fists are bloodied and adrenaline is coursing through him. He slams a bandit to the ground, smearing them across the hard metal floor, leaving a trail of blood. He lets out a roar as he charges at a group of bandits, hiding behind their fancy guns and shields. They’re no match for him. The electric charge of a depleted shield feels like nothing more than a tickle and he laughs as he slugs the surprised bandit in the face, breaking his nose with a crunch. Someone else has turned a gun on him, and he grabs it with both hands and twists, folding the metal up until the gun is useless. He drops it at the bandit’s feet and the terrified man turns tail and runs. Brick is about to chase after him to finish what he started, but he hears Mordecai screaming for Talon somewhere up above him, and he hears something off in the man’s voice. His head snaps round and he searches for him. There’s Talon, circling above. And there, surrounded by bandits and looking close to collapsing, is Mordecai.

Brick races up the metal staircase. A bandit comes towards him, and Brick just grabs the man and hauls him over the side of the staircase. The man tumbles down and lands on the ground with a sickening thud but Brick is long gone, rushing to Mordecai.

He charges the bandits, pummelling them with no mercy. Blood and brains spatter across the ground as the bodies fall and Brick doesn’t stop, can’t stop. He has to reach Mordecai.

There he is. Slumped on the ground. There are still bandits attacking him and Brick pulls them off him, slamming their heads together to get them to stop. He drops to his knees beside Mordecai, reaching for him.

“Mordy,” he says, but there’s no response from Mordecai.

He’s too late. He can’t be too late.

“Mordecai!” The word rips from his chest, full of pain and anguish. He rips a strip of fabric from Mordecai’s clothing, hastily wraps it around a visible wound, trying to stem the bleeding. Mordecai’s eyes are closed. Brick lowers his head to Mordecai’s chest and hears the rasping sound of his shallow breathing. “Not dead,” says Brick. “You’re not dead.”

The fifth round begins. Four badasses converge on Brick’s position. He has to finish this quickly; he doesn’t know how much time Mordecai has left. He loses himself in the battle lust, time passing in a blur. Mordecai is fine. He’s fighting beside him. This is a dream. A nightmare. He knocks the last bandit to the ground, stomping down hard on her head for good measure. The woman’s skull cracks from the pressure. A buzzer sounds. It’s over. He’s won. And yet he feel like he’s lost everything. He drops to the ground beside Mordecai, listens for his breathing again. For one long, terrible moment, he hears nothing. And then Mordecai takes a rattling breath.

Brick pulls Mordecai’s broken body into his arms. He feels as light as air, a body made of skin and bones. His eyes are closed beneath his goggles and there’s blood at the corner of his mouth. His mouth that Brick loves to kiss. He brushes Mordecai’s hair out of his face. It’s come loose from its ties and it’s sticky and matted with blood. He rests a hand on Mordecai’s cheek. His skin is cold, clammy. 

“Mordecai,” Brick says, because he doesn’t know what else to say. He knows how to deal with small wounds. Clean cuts, stop bleeding. But this is the worst condition he’s ever seen Mordecai in, and all he feels is panic. Normally Mordecai is still conscious, can talk him through whatever is needed. He’s dying, Brick thinks, the panic clouding his mind. He’s not the best at thinking, planning, solving problems. He’s always relied on Mordecai for that. But now it’s down to him, and he has to think of something before it’s too late. Before Mordy is… No. 

He stands up, cradling Mordecai’s limp body in his arms. He’d be a dead weight, except that he barely weighs anything at all. Brick wonders when it got this bad. It’s not like he hadn’t noticed the weight loss at all; he had. Every time they had held each other, every time he had seen him naked, every time they had fucked, and Brick’s hands had gripped Mordecai’s bony hips. He had watched him fade away in front of him, and he hadn’t been able to do anything about it. Every time he had broached the subject, Mordecai’s defenses had gone up. He would walk away, or pull his clothes back on, his voice turning sharp and spiky. If… No, when he wakes up, Brick won’t let it continue. It can’t continue. He can’t lose him. If he loses Mordecai then he might as well be dead himself. Mordecai is his anchor in this crazy world. It’s the two of them against the rest of Pandora. The two of them and Tina. Fuck, Tina. If Mordecai doesn’t make it, it’ll kill Tina as well. He still remembers how cut up she was after Roland died. Sure, she’d been a lot younger then, but this is Mordecai.

“Hang on, Mordy,” he says, as he hurries out of the Slaughter Shaft. He’s supposed to be getting cheered at by the crowd, with Mordecai by his side. Or possibly booed at; you never know with bandits. They were supposed to win together. Instead, he’s pushing past people, trying to get out. A car. He needs a car. There’s a catch-a-ride nearby, and he heads straight for it. Mordecai is still breathing, but those breaths are laboured and slow, and more blood is bubbling at the corner of his mouth. Lungs, thinks Brick. He doesn’t know exactly what’s going wrong in Mordecai’s body, but if his lungs are damaged, he knows there isn’t much time. He reaches the catch-a-ride and orders a technical.

“Come on, come on, come on!” The damn thing isn’t working fast enough and Brick slams a fist down on the console. “Come the fuck on!”

The car digistructs in front of him and he heaves Mordecai into the passenger seat. The unconscious man slumps against the side door and Brick hopes that he hasn’t hurt him more. He leaps into the driver’s seat and slams him foot down on the pedal. The technical roars into life, picking up speed rapidly.

“Hold on, Mordy,” Brick mutters, as he floors it across the Pandoran dessert.

### Boomtown, Devil’s Razor, Pandora

“Yes, yes, he will be absolutely fine, eventually. I am good at my job, you know. Now, I am going to leave your hovel and return to my lab on Sanctuary. Please, do hesitate before calling again.”

That’s Tannis’s voice, thinks Mordecai. His head is pounding and he’s not sure where he is. He tries to open his eyes but the world spins, starts flashing in front of his eyes, so he gives up and closes them. How is he even alive? He tries to remember what he had been doing. He’d been with Brick… the cheers of the crowd… fighting… He went down. He remembers the bandits swarming him. By all logic he should be dead. How is he not dead?

“Tannis?” he manages to croak, through dry lips. “What are you doing here?” He opens his eyes again, wincing at the light but this time managing to keep them open. He’s lying on the bed that he shares with Brick. His arm is in a sling, strapped tightly to his chest, and there are other dressings and bandages on his body. Tannis is standing at the door to the bedroom.

“Tina echoed me on Sanctuary,” says Tannis, lips pursed in distaste. “She interrupted a very delicate experiment and I could barely understand a word that she said, but apparently Brick brought you home close to death.”

“You… saved me?”

“I administered some drugs and dressed your wounds. Fascinating, really, that you were still alive in that state.”

“Thanks.”

“You are welcome. Now, I really must go. Do not do anything stupid for at least a couple of months, please. I prefer not to leave Sanctuary when possible.”

“Uh, sure.”

Mordecai closes his eyes again. There isn’t a single part of his body that doesn’t hurt. His head is pounding, his face hurts, there are sharp stabs of pain across his chest as he breathes and everything aches. He tries to move the arm that isn’t tied up in a sling, and as he does so he realises that Tannis has stuck a needle into him, a drip running directly into his vein.

“Fuck’s sake.” He thinks about pulling it out, hates that he’s so vulnerable in this position, but he doesn’t know what drugs Tannis is pumping into him and he shrinks away from the potential of more pain. For the first time ever, the physical pain in his body matches his mind.

He drifts in and out of sleep. He’s so, so tired. Talon nests on the bed beside him, head pressed against his side. He lets his fingers rest on the soft feathers, takes comfort in the closeness. He wonders where Brick is. At one point he wakes to hear Tina halfway through a long drawn out story about her current girlfriend. She rests her hand on his uninjured arm and he flinches, because that’s the arm that he normally takes out his feeling on. But at that moment, it’s the only part of his body that isn’t in pain.

His dreams are strange. Disjointed. It’s probably the drugs. He doesn’t like it, wakes from trippy dreams with looming faces and Bloodwing dying over and over, to find himself between sweat drenched sheets, alone in the bed. No Brick.

He wonders where Brick has been sleeping. He doesn’t know how much time has passed but it feels like a long time. 

“Brick,” he calls out, throat dry. But it’s not Brick who brings him water, or helps him shuffle to the toilet, it’s Tina. Only Tina. 

He’s sitting up in bed, leaning against the pillows, left hand idly stroking Talon’s feathers. He’s so bored. He wants a drink. He wants a fuck. He wants a fight. He wants something other than the four walls of this room and the bed that should have Brick in it.

“Go on, you big dummy.” He hears Tina’s voice at the door. “Get your ass in there and talk to the man!” He closes his eyes, waits.

“Mordecai.” Hearing Brick’s voice sends a shuddering feeling down Mordecai’s spine. He opens his eyes. Brick is standing at the foot of the bed, twisting his large hands together in a way that signifies anxiety. “Mordy.”

“Brick.” He doesn’t know what to say. Sorry for almost dying? Sorry for being so useless, such a fuck up? Or ask him where he’s been, why he wasn’t there? Or just…

“I thought you were dead,” says Brick, filling the silence. “I thought them fuckers had killed you and I-” His voice breaks. 

“Takes more than a few bandits to take me out,” says Mordecai. His tone is light, lighter than he feels.

“I thought I didn’t get you home in time.”

“But you did, and I’m fine now.” He laughs drily. “A little banged up but nothing that won’t heal.”

Brick sits down heavily on the bed. The movement jolts Mordecai, sending a spasm of pain through him. He lets out an involuntary groan.

“Shit, are you alright?” Brick is immediately fussing over him.

“Just… pain…” Mordecai manages to say. God damn Tannis, he’s sure that she could have given him stronger pain meds. 

Brick isn’t holding him. Mordecai doesn’t know what he’s done wrong. Well, aside from almost dying, but surely that should have made Brick want to hold him? He tries t think back through what happened, but before he was taken down they had been fine. Brick had been having fun.

“Uh, Brick,” he says, trying to keep his voice light, trying not to let his insecurities out. “What’s up, man?”

Brick lets out a long sigh, and Mordecai’s stomach plummets. He’s going to leave. He’s had enough of Mordecai’s shit and he’s going to leave.

“Brick?” He reaches out his uninjured arm and tries to hug him but a look of panic shoots across Brick’s face and he shifts away so that Mordecai can’t reach him. “Fuck,” says Mordecai, softly. The pain in his head and ribs and arm fade, because they are nothing compared to the sharp pain he’s just felt in his chest, his heart.

And then he realises that Brick is crying. There are fat tears rolling down his cheeks.

“I’m scared I’m gonna break you,” Brick sobs. He’s screwing his face up, trying to stop the flow of tears, but he can’t.

“Break me?”

Brick gestures at Mordecai. “The bandits broke you. Like a fucking doll, Mordy. Snapped your arm. I thought you were dead. You’re-” He stops, sniffs. “Like an egg.”

“An egg.” Mordecai doesn’t know whether he wants to laugh or cry. He stares at Brick. “How the fuck am I like an egg?”

“I’m scared I’ll crush you.”

“Brick, the fuck are you talking about?” All the times Brick’s held him, strong arms wrapped around him. All the times Brick’s fucked him. “You’re not gonna break me, Brick.” He reaches for him again, and this time Brick moves closer, lets him hold him. Feeling his skin, his muscles, his strength, Mordecai lets out a gasp that turns into a choked sob. There’s a moment of silence, and then Brick wraps his arms around him and Mordecai rests his head against Brick’s chest.

Brick sleeps beside him that night. Mordecai’s sleep is still broken, but every time he wakes, Brick is beside him, and he feels safe.

It doesn’t last, of course. When whatever drug Tannis had given him is finished, and he’s well enough to get up and about again, Mordecai finds that his body hasn’t reacted well to the enforced bedrest. His legs feel horribly weak and he can’t stand for long. His head still aches, and the world starts spinning when he tries to focus for any length of time. And Brick keeps trying to feed him.

“It’s soup. It’s healthy.”

“I told you, I’m not hungry.”

Brick is trying to spoon feed him, like he’s a baby. Each day, he’s eating less and less of what Brick brings for him, and today, he hasn’t managed to eat anything at all. He knows he should just eat it. His body needs calories to heal, and it’s only soup. But it’s like there’s some part of his brain that just won’t let him. Every time he refuses, Brick gets that sad puppy look on his face, and it’s killing Mordecai to see him like that but he just can’t eat.

He hates himself for it. Every day, feeling weaker instead of stronger. Every day, hurting his family.

“I should have died,” he says. “You should have let me die.”

Brick drops the spoon and it falls to the floor with a clatter.

“Fuck you,” says Brick, and stands up and leaves the room.

Mordecai rests his head in his hands. His arm is no longer in a sling but it still twinges with pain when he moves it. He pushes his head down hard onto his hands, so that it hurts more, because the pain drowns out the buzzing in his head. He’s pushed Brick to the limit, clearly. Brick’s not an easy man to piss off, not by people he cares about, but Mordecai has finally managed it. Of course he has. It was only a matter of time. This is what Mordecai does. He burns bridges. This was one of the sturdier, longer lasting bridges, and Mordecai has finally managed to burn it to the ground.

If he had the strength, he would leave. But he can barely stand, never mind make a journey across Pandora. And anyway, where would he go? He no longer has the wanderlust of his youth. He’s spent too long in one place, on one planet. He’s gotten too comfortable. His only choice is to curl up and die here. There has to be something within reach that can help him along with that goal. He grabs the bowl of soup from where Brick had left it and tips it out onto the floor. He’s not eating it. He’s never eating again and they can’t force him to.

-

“He’s starving himself,” Brick says. “I don’t know how to fix this.”

Ava is on the other end of the echo call. She’s leader of the Crimson Raiders now, but she still seems so young. She throws her hands up.

“I don’t know what you want me to do about this.”

It’s moments like this that really make Brick miss Lilith. She always knew what to do. Always had a plan. She would have been able to help Mordecai. She would have gone out of her way to make sure he was ok. Ava just looks pissed off.

-

There are no drugs left. If Mordecai had had the idea earlier, maybe he could have just drank the IV bag of whatever Tannis had left. That would probably have done the trick. But no, he couldn’t have been suicidal whilst actually dying. No, that would have made things too fucking easy. He searches the bedside drawers, but Tannis hasn’t left even a single pill behind. Of course she hasn’t. She’s fastidious to a fault. Oh well. Pulls would have been the easy way out, but they’re not the only way out.

-

“You’ve got tech, and smart people up on Sanctuary,” says Brick. “Down here it’s just me and Tina.”

Ava sighs. “Alright, I’ll talk to Tannis, I guess. No promises, Brick. We probably can’t do anything.”

“But you’ll try?”

“I’ll try.”

Brick nods. “Good. I’m not letting him die.”

Ava smiles sadly. “Sometimes, people just die. Everything you do is wrong and they just die.”

“No,” says Brick. “Not Mordecai.”

-

Mordecai finds the cheap bottle of vodka that he had stashed under the bed at some point. It’s a last resort drink that tastes like paint stripper, but there’s no way he’ll make it all the way to the kitchen with his legs this weak. He’s looked at them, and Brick is right. Before, he was skin and bone and muscle. Now, the muscle is wasting away, leaving just the skin and bone. It’s kind of gross, if he looks at himself objectively, but he also feels a perverse kind of pride in it as well. They can’t make him eat. They can’t stop him drinking. And they can’t keep him alive. He unscrews the cap from the bottle and takes a swig. The vodka burns down his throat but there’s no guilt this time, just relief. He’s already fucked everything up so this doesn’t matter. He can drink as much as he likes. He can die drunk. He’s not sure if that’s poetic, or just more evidence of his failures.

-

Brick is sitting with his back resting against the closed bedroom door. He wants to go inside, to pick Mordecai up in his arms and just hold him. To kiss his face, his hair, his chest. To touch him and be touched by him. To make love to him on their bed, to push himself inside him, to be as close to him as physically possible. But when he looks at him, at his disappearing body and the dead look in his eyes, he feels so sad that he can’t bring himself to go in.

Ava echoed back. She’s sending some Crimson Raiders down to bring Mordecai up to Sanctuary. She asked Brick to bring him, but Brick said no. He’s not sure why, but it’s probably the same reason why he’s sitting out here instead of staying by Mordecai’s side. He just can’t bare it.

-

His gun. That’s what he’ll use. Quick and easy. Should have done it years ago. One bullet to the head and he’ll be dead and it’ll all be over.

When was the last time that he told Brick that he loved him? He can’t remember.

The revolver is on the other side of the room. The world spins when he stands up, so he crawls instead, one hand in front of the other, until he reaches the pile of belongings that must have come back with him from the Slaughter Shaft. His knife is here as well, and for a moment he entertains the idea of slicing his wrists open, of bleeding out on the floor. But that’s a slower death, more time for Brick or Tina to come and save him, and this time he doesn’t want to be saved. His sniper rifle is missing, presumably left behind in the Slaughter Shaft and then stolen by a bandit. He feels a pang of regret before remembering that he doesn’t need it anymore anyway. 

He picks up the revolver. It still has bullets loaded in the chamber. He glances around the room, double checking that Talon is still out hunting. He doesn’t want the bird to witness this. But Talon is still gone, and he’s alone. He holds the revolver to his head, finger resting on the trigger. Is this the best way to do it? He opens his mouth, rests the barrel of the gun there instead. This is more reliable, right? It’s uncomfortable, the metal cold on his tongue. He just needs to squeeze the trigger and the bullet will fire through the back of his head and blow his brains out. He’ll be dead. Everything will end.

There are voices outside the door. Mordecai tunes them out. Come on, you fucking coward, he thinks, finger stroking the trigger. It’s easy, just do it.

“Mordy!” He hadn’t heard the door open, but he hears Brick’s cry and his footsteps as he charges across the room. He pulls the gun from Mordecai’s grip, and Mordecai slumps against the wall, unharmed. He closes his eyes, feels Brick’s arms wrap around him, hears the gun get kicked across the floor. Coward, he thinks. Failure.

Brick’s holding him so tightly it hurts. There are other people in the room, voices he doesn’t recognise. And then he feels the sharp jab of a needle in his arm and everything fades to black.


End file.
